Page 27 of Collide

As I sit across from Tommy, he glares at me.

“What’s this?” He holds up his phone as if I can see it. I reach forward and find an image of Ivy wrapped in a towel with my arm around her, and I was kissing her temple.

“Damnit.” So much for privacy on the small tour. We didn’t consider an NDA for each passenger, but once people figured out who Jared and Petty were, there was no denying us.

The caption under the image reads: Is that Ivy Carrigan? Moving on from Cash Bennett.

“How the fuck?”

“Some people pride themselves on looking up dirt and then spreading that shit everywhere.”

I hand the phone back to Tommy.

“I’ll manage this.” We have a personal assistant to monitor our media for this type of stuff. I text her instantly, demanding a takedown and search if possible. Who did this?

“This is the type of shit I warned you about. You leave my niece out of your business.”

“Look, I have no intention of dragging her into anything.” I understand his protectiveness of her, but he needs to understand I’d throw myself in front of a bus myself for her.

Tommy pauses a minute, stroking the silver-black mix of hair on his jaw. His eyes narrow on me. “You stay away from her, and I’ll become your manager.”

My eyes open wide. He’s asking me for a death sentence. I couldn’t stay away from her if I tried.

“No deal. You just said to leave Ivy out of things, and you want to throw her on the table as a bargaining chip.”

“That’s what I thought,” Tommy huffs. “You’re going to flounder with shit like this.”

I glare at him. Just tell me to fail, and I’ll prove you wrong. This is the way of Meredith, the step-monster who wants money from me now that I have it.

“You don’t know anything,” I say, standing and dismissing myself.

13

IVY

Gage invites me to go dancing with them in the evening. Eight used to be early for me, but now…I take a nap as soon as we return home from the turtle excursion so I can make it till nine. I’m tired of being tired, but I also know my body needs the rest, and it’s all preparation for never sleeping again.

“Where the fuck is she?” Gage snaps, lifting his drink for his lips as I walk up behind him.

“She’s right behind you,” I say although suddenly I wonder if he meant me. He slams his glass down on the table and stands quickly, spinning to face me, and then he stops. His eyes roam my body from top to bottom.

“My God, you’re gorgeous,” he states, drawing in a breath and stepping forward to kiss my cheek. I’m wearing a silver sequin shift dress. Cut mid-thigh, it disguises my belly well enough, but it’s tighter around the middle than normal. My hand covers my stomach, and Gage grips my fingers, entwining ours together. “No one knows.”

He tugs me to the table. He’s upset, and the energy vibrates around him. Once I sit on the high-top stool, he drags the seat closer to him with his foot. He slides a wine glass toward me.

“What’s this?” I look at him.

“Water.”

“In a wine glass?” I clarify. It’s a sweet gesture especially since I can’t drink alcohol. I giggle, and he bumps my shoulder with his before picking up his glass and taking a slow slip.

“You’re angry.” His jaw clenches, and he turns to face me. His eyes are hooded, but he isn’t drunk. The way he looks at me—like he drinks me in—makes me feel woozy. How can he do this to me with just a look?

“You’re late.” I am. I’m an hour late actually. I overslept and then showered, trying to put some effort into myself.

“I am. I’m sorry.” He leans over and kisses my shoulder.

“Wearing that dress, you’re forgiven.” He smiles slowly as he draws back from my shoulder.